


Five Burglars Who Would Have Been Better Off Staying Home and Watching TV

by Mara



Category: Blood Ties (TV), Leverage, Power Rangers Dino Charge, The Secret Adventures of Jules Verne, Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 01:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6495250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mara/pseuds/Mara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do I need to write a summary? Really?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Burglars Who Would Have Been Better Off Staying Home and Watching TV

**Author's Note:**

> First complete Couchcon fic! Well, 4/5ths was written years ago and lost, but the last section was written on the plane as I flew to Couchcon, so I count it.

1.

Henry smelled the intrusions before he even saw the picked lock. Nostrils flaring, he glared at the door. "What's point of having a doorman...?"

He took a deep breath, turned on his heel, and was down the stairs so fast there was a pop of displaced air.

The scent ran behind the building, down several blocks, and into an alleyway. Henry's lips came off his fangs and he knew his eyes were totally black as he approached the young man tossing a laptop and iPad into the backseat of a beat-up Ford.

Brown eyes widened with fear as the thief found himself slammed against the side of the car by a whirlwind that resolved into Henry.

* * *

Feet up on the couch, iPad in hand, Henry reached a leisurely hand out to still the ringing phone. "Hello?"

"Fitzroy." Mike sounded as annoyed as ever.

"Why, Detective, lovely as ever to hear your voice. How can I help you?"

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about a kid who just ran into the station begging to be allowed to confess to a string of robberies, would you?"

Henry grinned. "It's reassuring to know that even the criminal class retains some vestiges of a conscience. Why would you think I was involved?"

"Maybe the two puncture marks on his neck? Or do we have another bloodsucker in town and you forgot to tell me?"

Laughing, Henry conceded. "It is possible I encouraged him to bare his soul."

A stunned pause showed Mike hadn't expected that. "Oh. Well. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Good night." Henry hung up the phone and went back to reading.

* * *

2.

Trudging up the steps, still picking Korellian spit out of his hair, the absolute last thing Ianto wanted to see (other than a Weevil) was a discreet red light next to his doorbell.

Unlocking the door, Ianto sighed, then stepped in. Hands on his hips, he waited while his security system—made of tech Earth wouldn't see for 300 years—recognized him.

He paused for an instant to look at the man frozen in stasis halfway down the hall. Then shaking his head, he walked past him and continued toward his shower and bed. "Don't worry," he called over his shoulder, "I'll call the police in the morning. Or at least whenever I wake up."

* * *

3\. 

Rebecca Fogg strode through the door of Phileas' home, intent on her thoughts as she stripped off her gloves. Perhaps it was the late hour, perhaps she was just getting old, but the fact was, it took her at least a minute after she entered the drawing room and beginning to speak to Phileas, Jules, and Passepartout before she noticed the man suspended in the air in a giant net, like the world's largest butterfly.

She paused, examined the terrified man who clung to the net, then turned to Jules. "Really? I'd expect this from those reprobates," she said, waving at Phileas and Jules, "but I thought you had better sense." 

Jules looked embarrassed. "Well, he did attempt to climb through the window…"

"Then we call a constable to deal with him, not leaving him hanging around like a snared rabbit. Passepartout, get him down this instant!"

"But Miss Rebecca—

"Now."

Phileas had simply tilted down one corner of his newspaper to watch the byplay. "Go ahead, Passepartout. She's going to nag until we do."

Rebecca ignored him, watching as Passepartout used a complicated series of levers to lower the net. Marching over, she began to untangle the hapless thief from its folds.

"Thankee, miss," he mumbled in an annoyingly ingratiating tone. "Yer a most gracious—"

"Do be quiet," Rebecca said, tapping her toe as he removed his last limbs.

"Phileas, make yourself useful and summon a constable now."

As the last syllable exited her mouth, the thief made a dash for the door, thinking himself in the clear because the men were all across the room.

Phileas raised an eyebrow as Rebecca lashed out with one foot and kicked the thief to the floor with an unhappy "Oof."

Foot planted on the thief's back, Rebecca sighed. "Now, Phileas."

"Of course," he said with a smirk, finally rising from his chair.

"Or must I do everything around here?"

The thief whimpered.

* * *

4.

The room was silent and moonlit as the man crept slowly across the carpet. His hand stretched out toward the desk.

"Is that the best you can?" a woman's voice asked from above him.

He shrieked as a blonde head—upside down—suddenly appeared inches from his nose.

"Can't handle surprises, it took you _forever_ to pick that lock, and you sounded like an elephant." She scowled at him.

"Uh." He took a step backward. "I'm sorry?"

"Who let you out like this?" She flipped over so she was upright. "You shouldn't even be out of training wheels yet."

"I…uh…I'll just…" He tried another step.

"Never mind." And she punched him. As he hit the far wall and slipped into unconsciousness he heard her say. "That's for trying to steal from Parker. So there."

* * *

5\. 

Kendall stifled a yawn as she left her office. Between three meetings, a missing shipment for the café, and a monster strong enough that the Purple Ranger had had to bring the Plesiozord out, she was frankly wiped.

She waved to Maria, who was finishing a final polish of the floor in the upper hallways. "Buenas noches," she called and Maria waved back.

Another yawn threatened as she jogged down the back steps. Just one more run through the main hall to be sure everything was a place for tomorrow's opening of a visiting gemstone exhibit. Then she would go home and sleep.

The signage looked especially sharp and she made a note to congratulate Shelby on her work. The cases were clear and shiny and all the rope barriers and benches and walls to guide visitors were correctly placed.

There were the pamphlets (Riley and Tyler's excellent work). And the freshly painted display bases. And Ivan and Koda holding a terrified man dressed in black. And there—

Kendall stopped a few feet further, mentally rewinding until she reached the point of interest.

Slowly, she turned. Ivan looked like a cat presenting a freshly killed mouse. Koda had an uncertain look, the one when he had no idea how a non-caveman might react.

The gentleman they held was gagged, but his eyes showed he was terrified and slightly concussed.

Sighing, Kendall shook her head. Ivan was still guilty over the armor incident and tended to go a bit overboard with his zealous protection of the museum. And Koda was always eager to please.

"What did I tell you about thieves?"

"It not our job to catch them," Koda said, staring at the ground.

"But—" Ivan began

"You need to rest in case something…else comes up."

Ivan and Koda looked like kicked puppies.

"Fine," she said. "You can train with him a bit before you turn him over to Steve. But for goodness' sake, could you do it over by the interactive dig site? At least if you break something there, I might be able to replace it."

"Of course, Miss Morgan." Ivan bowed.

As Kendall walked away, Ivan was saying, "Now, we're going to free you, but…"

Sighing, she went out the side door nearest to her car. Why did she feel like an overgrown babysitter?

\--end--


End file.
